


The Proposal

by anonymousmadame2911



Category: Chris Evans (actor) - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-30 12:07:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19852846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymousmadame2911/pseuds/anonymousmadame2911
Summary: Fluff. Just fluff.





	The Proposal

“Babe. Look at this.”

“What’s that?”

You had been walking through the living room to the garden to re-pot your orchids when Chris held up a magazine. 

“Where did you even get this?”

“I had to get a physical before that movie starts in Denmark. But look. Virgin is selling trips to the stratosphere. How cool is that?”

“Insanely cool. For how much though? Too much I bet.”

You weren’t frugal by any means. You knew how to spend money when you needed to, but a trip to the stratosphere because one Mr. Chris Evans wanted to tickle his fancy about space didn’t encourage you to pull out the credit card.

“Between $150 to $250,000. But it’s for 12 hours and the meals are prepared by Michelin-starred chefs.”

“And where precisely are you planning on going to the bathroom in that contraption? Take Scott. You can definitely con him into going. I’m quite content with the Johnson Space Center.”

You and Chris had been together for about a year now. You had been invited by Sebastian as a guest for an auction on Banksy pieces. He briefly introduced you to Chris over cocktails before the auction started. You watched the flurry of action as one of Banksy’s pieces was shredded and the panic set in throughout the room. You giggled at the stressed out men in suits who didn’t seem to understand art or even what Banksy stood for. Chris made some comment about how art belongs to everyone and y’all engaged in a witty repartee as to what he was even doing there in the first place. You continued to talk about art which led to a discussion about art in nature which led to you talking about the Hubble telescope photos that you had hanging on your walls because you couldn’t afford high end art. You had to settle for your own photos or the canvasses sold on Etsy. Somewhere in the night, Sebastian had excused himself and went home. You and Chris walked around the city and continued talking. You offered to show him the art you had hanging in your tiny apartment in Harlem. The two of you caught the subway, getting in the last car with no one in it. You made him a cup of Cafe Bustelo coffee and showed him the photos you took of bees clutching flowers, vivid fuchsia flowers, perfect symmetry of palm leaves, and finally the two Hubble telescope photos of the Carina and the Horsehead Galaxy printed on canvasses and hanging in your hallway. You talked to him about growing up in Houston and being infused with NASA and the space race at a young age. NASA was never a boy or girl thing. If you were from Houston, you went to the Johnson Space Center and there were pictures of you standing in front of the shuttle. He laughed at how cute you were standing at the age of 5 with your dark hair, hand blocking out the bright sun, looking angry as hell, hip popped out in front of the shuttle with your sister. His irresistible laugh pulled you in for that first kiss. You continued talking about how being in space must be like swimming in the open ocean, feeling so small and insignificant compared to all other life out there. The way he looked at you with marvel and wonder in those blue eyes made you pull him in for a second kiss. You don’t know what possessed you—you studiously avoided sleeping with celebrities. The drama turned you off immensely. But a little voice in your head told you you were going to marry him. Really, you just wanted to fuck the shit out of him. He was so wholesome, so good, so sweet and you couldn’t stand it. You wanted to squish his cheeks together. Then ride him until he couldn’t cum anymore. The next morning, he asked for your number. He texted or called you every day. Thanksgiving rolled around, and you went to Boston to meet his family. It wasn’t perfect. You were nervous. You forgot to bring wine and flowers for his mother. Christmas rolled around and this time you didn’t forget the gifts. You and his mother exchanged numbers and talked about gardening. You bought her her first amaryllis bulb. It was low maintenance. She only needed to water it once a week. She loved it. When it bloomed, she sent pictures to Chris. 50 pictures. Nevermind, that that exact kit could be found in nearly any grocery store. She loved that flower and made sure the entire family knew. After Christmas, Chris wanted to know why you had met his family, but he hadn’t met yours. 

“Well…you see….the thing is…I was waiting for you to ask. You can never really tell how serious someone is. So, I was just waiting on you.”

After Christmas, Chris was slated to go to Denmark to film his latest movie. When he returned in May, you booked your tickets down to Houston. You drove him to Schlitterbahn, where he fell asleep on the Lazy River and you had to nudge him awake before he suffered from sunburn. That night, you went to your aunt’s house for a big family dinner. Strangely, your cousins from San Antonio were in town too. He met everyone. I mean—aunt, uncle, cousin, cousin twice removed, 2nd grade teacher. In the flurry of all of the activity, you left him with your Aunt Belinda who was clearly hitting on him nonstop. He found you in the kitchen, pleaded with you to never leave him alone, and planted a deep kiss while you giggled in his face. That was the first time he told you he loved you. You were done for. Moving in together happened quickly thereafter and everything was going smoothly. 

“Can you book the week of the 22nd to the 29th off?”

“Why?”

“I can’t tell you. Can you just trust me?”

“Why can’t you just tell me?”

“Argh! Just trust me please?”

“Fine.”

You had a bag packed and he picked you up from your apartment on the 22nd. He didn’t tell you where he was taking you, but you saw he had packed a bag too. You assumed this was another one of his romantic antics that he was up to and you just had to suck it up. “Just let me be romantic, would ya.” he always said. You hated surprises, but for him, you would suck it up. 

“Oh. My. God. Chris no.”

“Chris yes!”

He pulled up and parked right outside of the launch pad. A giant Virgin shuttle loomed over you.

“I know you’re a celebrity and sitting on bank, but seriously?! You’re outta control.”

“So, get me under control” he whispered.

“Naw! You’re on your own! You’ve lost your damn mind!”

“Come on! You love space.”

“Chris. Chris. Be serious. It’s one thing to love space and another to go to space. You’re crazy. You. Are. Crazy! I’m calling your mother. You’ve lost it.”

He grabbed your bags and left you in the car. 

“Fuck!”

You jumped up and raced after him. The Virgin employee put the two of you in a golf cart and drove you to the launch pad. You took an elevator and walked across the platform to the top of the shuttle. 

“Chris. Shit. We’re really doing this?”

The giddy look on his face was unmistakable. You were really doing this. 

“Did you bring your camera babe?”

“I’ll use my phone.”

He pulled you close and placed a kiss on the back of your head. You started giggling at the absurdity of the entire situation. You had no training to be in a vehicle that was taking you to space. Unbelievable. The Virgin employees showed you were the food was stored, where you could go to the bathroom and strapped you in. They would tell you when you could unbuckle your seatbelts when you hit zero gravity. You were stunned at how beautiful Earth was with the moon in the distance. You were so distracted by looking out the window that you didn’t see the little blue box that Chris had floated your way. 

“It’s beautiful out there, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, its—what’s this?”

You plucked that signature Tiffany and Co. box out of the middle of the air. 

“Well, I’d get down on one knee, but that’s a bit impossible at the moment.”

“Yes.”

“I haven’t even asked yet. Will you—“

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Close enough,” he said as he floated over to kiss you. 

He reached into the compartment where the food was and pulled out a bottle of champagne. 

“Couldn’t get the good stuff?” You teased him.

“Well, after this, I might need to sign another 10-movie deal with Marvel.”

“I can support the two of us. You just have to get rid of all of those Louboutins that you wear and your Ferragamo outfits.”

“Never!”

“Please tell me you aren’t planning a surprise wedding in space too?”

“Nope. I think I am officially broke now.”

“Never!” 

You spent the trip back to Earth, picking out landmarks and kissing. When you touched land, his mother screamed down the phone when she heard the news, asking if you were pregnant too. 

“Oh dear. You can tell her that we’ve been practicing.”

You sent Chris a cheeky wink while he held his cell phone a few inches away from his ear. He stuck his tongue out at you in response. 

“No…yeah…we haven’t set a date. We’re just enjoying the moment.”

How right he was.


End file.
